Winds of War
by Morning Frost on Leaf
Summary: A sudden and astonishing revelation thrusts Spyro and Cynder into a journey filled with secrets, lies and deceit. Spyro is forced to fight darkness and evil, as well as grappling with his own inner demons and discovering the true meaning of the purple dragon prophecy...
1. The Revelation

**Hello, Morning Frost here!**

**Welcome to my fanfic, **_**Winds of War. **_**This story is set after A New Beginning, and the main reason for this is that I wanted everyone's favourite dragon, Ignitus, in the story! ^^ Post-Dawn of the Dragon stories tend to get quite repetitive anyway, and I thought it was about time this archive saw something new. **

**I'll probably need a few OCs later on, and as I absolutely hate making them (I get really paranoid that my character is a complete Mary-Sue) I'd be grateful if a few of yours were suggested. So, if you have any OCs you could see in this story, or even any ideas for the plot itself, don't hesitate to send them in a review or PM!**

**Without any further ado, let's get on with the story!**

Chapter One

The Revelation

Nearly a week had passed since Spyro defeated Cynder in Convexity, and the purple dragon was sorry to say that he'd not yet fully recovered. He could walk around without feeling he was going to collapse at any moment, and even fly at a push, but the breath powers Ignitus had told him would return were nowhere to be seen except from a few small flickers of flame that could barely light a candle. He hadn't been able to use his fire breath for days now - let alone electricity, ice and earth – and he was beginning to worry.

To make matters worse, the Guardians had been training Cynder and her control of fire was _outstanding. _She didn't just breathe it. Right off the bat she could spit fireballs, charge in a dash of flame, and her fury… Spyro recalled the memory of how the entire dojo had been engulfed in a blaze so intense it had nearly burned the pages of the book he was reading.

"How did you _do _that?" Spyro asked as the Dragon Guardians applauded, hoping she wouldn't detect the jealousy in his voice.

Cynder shrugged. "I've been trained since I hatched from my egg."

"But she's still an evil freak," Sparx had mumbled helpfully once they were out of earshot.

The Guardians had also managed to tidy the vast majority of the Dragon Temple, for the overrun of apes had left the building in a poor state, and once all the moss and debris had been cleared it was quite evident that the temple was enormous. As well as the Dojo and the Grotto, where the Pool of Visions lay, there was also a great winding staircase that lead up to the Library; a smaller, straighter set of stairs that down to the Dungeons, and what seemed like hundreds of other rooms and chambers scattered in between. Spyro was pleased when the Guardians suggested that they use one of the rooms as his ownpersonal chamber, which to him made the cold stony temple seem much more like home; and Cynder received the same treatment. But Spyro's favouriteroom, in which he was sitting contentedly now, had to be the Library.

It was a huge square room with beautiful, elaborate paintings on the ceiling that seemed to Spyro to tell stories whenever he looked up at them. Most were paintings of dragons but there were also paintings of creatures Spyro had never seen before: magnificent fire-birds painted in bold bright strokes of orange and gold; graceful winged horses painted in subtler shades of silver and blue; proud lions with the head and wings of an eagles – or were they just eagles with the bodies of lions? Spyro didn't know.

Wooden shelves protruded from every wall of the room, and on these shelves were books – more books than Spyro had ever seen in his life. Big books, small books, red books, green books, strong hard leather-bound books, flimsy paperback books no thicker than a piece of parchment, and every other kind imaginable. Reading had become a valuable hobby to Spyro, what with his inability to fight as of current, and despite Sparx labelling his new-found interest 'boring' the purple dragon was now seldom seen without his head buried deep in a book. Spyro curled up next to a pile of books he intended to read and opened his latest endeavour, _Dragon History and How it Shapes Our Culture Today, _by Quentin Quilltail.

'_The caring of the dragon eggs,' _Quentin Quilltail had written in an intricate inky scrawl, _'has changed gradually over the years._

'_Initially it was the mothers who cared for their brood although, weakened and sapped of energy from the ordeal of egg-laying, it was the mates of these mothers that in fact did the most protecting. However, as well as being dependent on the males for protection, the mothers were also dependent on the males for food. Their mates would fly to prey-rich grounds to hunt and collect crystals, the common life-source of all dragons, and sometimes be gone for days at a time. _

'_It was then predators – be it apes, grublins or orcs – would attack the cave of the defenceless mother for an easy meal. It was then established that some dragon that was _not _weakened from the process of childbirth or absent from the cave would be more suited to protect the eggs. Dragons from all over the world met to discuss to situation and the strongest dragons – males, naturally, as they are proud by nature – volunteered to undertake the important duty of protecting the eggs._

'_One such Fire Dragon believed that it was he who should be entrusted with this duty. 'But what if the attackers were to wear fire-proof armour?' protested many others. After much debate and argument as to the advantages and disadvantages to each element, it was eventually decided that, rather than quarrelling amongst themselves, they must instead join together to share the task of protecting the eggs.'_

Spyro's heart beat excitedly. The Guardians! Perhaps there would be something about Ignitus in here. Mouth dry, he turned the page.

'_Dragon eggs, of course, are very important, as they are our future and the sole bane of this race's existence. And so, a guardian of each element was chosen – fire, electricity, ice, earth, and-'_

"Spyro."

Spyro immediately jolted to his feet, slamming the book shut and knocking over those in the pile beside him in the process. The books tumbled to the floor with a _crash _and Spyro quickly began to pick them up, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. In his head Spyro could just imagine Sparx rolling his eyes and commenting sarcastically: _Nice one, idiot._

As soon as Spyro felt his heart rate slowing down he turned around to face the person who had spoken – and his heartbeat instantly accelerated again. _Cynder. _Spyro swallowed, wondering if she really did think he was an idiot. Her eyes, like shards of broken emerald, gave nothing away. Spyro looked at her flawless features, from the three elegant sets of horns on her head to the beautiful markings on her body, and thought to himself that she rather belonged in one of the paintings on the ceiling.

"You need to come downstairs," she said. "The Guardians said they need to talk to us about something."

Spyro managed to choke out an "OK" but she had already left. He quickly followed, gliding down the stairs until he reached the Grotto. The Guardians were waiting patiently beside the Pool of Visions aside from Ignitus, who was pacing back and forth and looking very anxious.

"Good, you're here," Ignitus said hurriedly before Spyro had even sat down. "We need everyone present to discuss the situation."

Sparx buzzed over to Spyro, grinning. "Hey, purple boy. Glad you've finally put down the Bore Chronicles - old Fire Fart here's been dying to tell us something or other."

Ignitus shot a withering look at Sparx, who promptly let out a terrified squeal before slamming his mouth shut. A silence hung over the room for a moment. Then Ignitus spoke.

"I have seen something in the Pool of Visions."

"So what?" Sparx hissed to his adoptive brother. "He thinks he's seen something in the freaking Puddle of Weirdness. Big deal."

"Something _worrying," _Ignitus continued, glaring at Sparx, "that concerns all of us. Spyro might have defeated Cynder last week in Convexity, but he was too late to stop her releasing the Dark Master from his prison. He is free – and he will return."

A disconcerted murmur rippled through the Guardians. "So, as usual, it's the evil freak's fault," Sparx said. Spyro shushed him crossly, but it was clear Cynder had heard despite this. Her head was bowed, and she was staring at the floor with a glum, guilty expression.

"Then we must fight!" Terrador said, with a voice as booming and strong as his muscular exterior. Spyro half expected the temple itself to rumble. "We must attack now – while the Dark Master's still weak."

"A most intelligent choice," Cyril drawled sarcastically, "when we've bundles of strength now."

Terrador took a step towards Cyril, his lips pulled back in a snarl, but before he could say anything Volteer interjected. "Yes, yes, Cyril's right – you really mustn't be so impetuous, Terrador," he gabbled, "given the current circumstances our chances of success against the Dark Master are inordinately slim – our elderly demeanours are a disadvantage, and Spyro's lack of breath powers render him useless – Cynder's a bourgeoning fighter, yes, but she's still besieged by the darkness inside her, and – oh, who we'd really need to take on such a perilous affair is the fifth guardian, but-"

Suddenly Volteer clapped one paw over his mouth, as if only just realising what he'd said. Ignitus, Cyril and Terrador all turned their heads slowly towards him with a mixture of pure horror on their faces. Even miserable Cynder had stopped looking at the floor and was now staring at Volteer with an unreadable expression. Only Sparx was still grinning, making a slicing gesture as if to say, '_You could cut the tension with a knife!' _But Spyro didn't grin back. He had a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was evident that everyone in the room knew something he didn't.

"What did you say?" Spyro said, breaking the silence in the room. No-one responded. Then, louder, "_What did you say?"_

"I, er, was just illustrating the difficulties in which we would face if we were to take on-"

"Don't play the fool with _me, _Volteer," Spyro snarled, whipping around to face the trembling guardian. "I'm not a child. In case you'd forgotten, I saved you when you were destined for certain death! And you," – he turned to Cyril and the other Dragon Guardians – "_and you, and-"_

"Now don't get excited, young dragon," Ignitus pleaded, "perhaps it's better if you don't know…"

"Don't _know?" _The dread Spyro felt had now turned to fully-fledged anger. "Why shouldn't I know, Ignitus, when it's obvious that everyone else does? Despite the fact that _no-one in this room would be alive had it not been for me!"_

"Don't speak to your elders like that-"

"I'll speak to you how I please until I get an answer!"

Ignitus closed his eyes. He suddenly looked like a very tired and weary old dragon. "Alright," he said softly, "I'll tell you. I suppose you have a right to know."

Spyro looked up at him expectantly, his heart racing.

"Spyro, when you saved us from Cynder's clutches that day, you saved all the Dragon Guardians but one. There are not four guardians, but five: us, and the Guardian of Wind."

**Sorry guys, but I'm going to have to end it on a cliffhanger! So, who is this Guardian of Wind? Why wasn't he rescued? And how will Spyro react?**

**All will be revealed in the next chapter! Stay tuned!**


	2. The Apes Attack

**Wow – can I just say how absolutely **_**thrilled **_**I am to have received so many reviews on my first chapter! I really didn't expect so many. It just really motivates me to carry on writing when I see that people are reading and enjoying my work; it's really helpful when I get constructive criticism so that I know how to improve in the future; and it's also incredibly flattering when I see that other writers, who have their own stories to write and improve on, have taken the time to leave some feedback. So here's a massive thank-you to everyone! ^^**

**I've also managed to get all the OCs I needed, so thank-you very kindly to Airchi and HKGhost for those. And now, on to the story!**

Chapter 2

The Apes Attack

If Spyro had been expecting any satisfaction from finally discovering what the secret was, he received none. Instead, he was drowned in a waterfall of disbelief, confusion and above all, _curiosity. _He couldn't believe that there was a fifth Guardian, and was outraged at the other four for keeping this from him – but above all, he wanted to know _why. _His mind was positively bursting with questions. Who was the Guardian of Wind? Why hadn't he been saved? And why had the Dragon Guardians – _and Cynder, _he thought scornfully – chosen not to tell him?

As if he could read Spyro's mind, Ignitus spoke. "I suppose you are wondering what happened," he said with a heavy sigh. "It all came about back when we were still fighting the war against the Dark Master and you were an ignorant hatchling frolicking in the Swamp, no doubt. Of course, there were five of us fighting then: Terrador, Cyril, Volteer, Zephyrae – the Guardian of Wind - and myself. The very event marked the beginning of Cynder's reign of terror.

"We were undertaking an important task in Concurrent Skies. We were seeking the – this important artefact," Ignitus said, ignoring Spyro's suspicious expression, "as well as exploring the newly-built fortress that existed there. We'd heard from an – a reliable source," – he finally met Spyro's glares with a warning look that said, _Don't even think about arguing, you dragon!_ – "that this was the lair of the dragon we'd failed to protect on the Night of the Raid. Not once did any of us expect…" Ignitus trailed off, closing his eyes and shaking his head as if trying to banish a particularly unpleasant memory.

"Anyway, we'd managed to recover this object," Ignitus continued, "and we were feeling rather hopeful about the current state of the war. We'd encountered the Dark Master's forces along the way but nothing had proven to be too difficult; we'd managed to take the _thing, _and we were feeling somewhat confident that, at some point, we might rescue Cynder. We had even, prior to this event, met a few creatures that had expressed interest in joining us to fight in the war. The tide was turning, so to speak.

"But then, upon our exit, we encountered the very dragon we'd one day hoped to save. And, by the ancestors…" He stole a sorrowful glance at Cynder, as if he couldn't believe that she'd been the 'Terror of the Skies'; couldn't believe that he and the very same dragon were sitting in the very same room. "The Dark Master had corrupted her beyond all belief. She should have been a tiny little thing, no more harmless than a Frog Weed; but there she stood, as tall as the dragons over a hundred times her age, her neck bound in a metal collar as if she were some sort of _pet_ to the Dark Master and unrecognisable, absolutely unrecognisable…

"We couldn't kill her, of course. How could we kill an innocent _child, _knowing that there might be a chance of her one day escaping the darkness? We couldn't. But that didn't matter. The black magic so ruthlessly inflicted upon had made her strong, so strong…

"The Guardian of Wind, Zephyrae, was the first to fall. And so the rest of us did the only thing we could do – and fled."

Spyro, who had previously been silent whilst Ignitus told his story, suddenly sprang to his paws in indignation. "You mean you _abandoned _him? _You left him for dead?"_

"Stop acting as if we are apes, young dragon," Ignitus snapped. "The article we took was of grave importance and without it, the entire journey would have gone to waste."

"So why didn't we save him along with the rest of the Guardians? Why can't we save him _now?"_

"There wasn't time. Cynder had harnessed his power long ago to create a key to his prison and once she'd harnessed mine, it was only a matter of moments before she freed the Dark Master. And you _know _that we're in no position to rescue him right now. These affairs are of no real business or important to you; and so you should count yourself lucky as, if it had not been for the fact that you will discover your wind breath sooner or later, I doubt I would have divulged this information at all. I most _certainly_ would not have told you if I knew you would react like this, or make such ludicrous theories or demands. So if you wouldn't mind, young dragon," Ignitus said, looking thoroughly irritated, "I would appreciate it if you'd _be silent."_

Spyro felt a rage building up inside him like he'd never felt before. How _could _the Guardians have been so cowardly? He simply couldn't understand how they could lament and regret the fact that they'd failed to save Cynder when they had done the exact same thing a second time: abandoned one of their dearest friends to save their own necks. _I suppose that's why they were so eager for me to battle Cynder, _he thought bitterly, _because they were too afraid to do so themselves!_ He felt betrayed and like a traitor himself at the same time; as if, by being unable to save Zephyrae, the Guardians had dragged him into their mess of lies and weakness.

The purple dragon glared daggers at Ignitus. At one time he thought he could trust the elder; now he wasn't so sure. He'd already lied twice: first about Cynder's true past, and now about this. Even when telling his story he'd refused to disclose what the 'thing' that took priority over his comrade was, and he was almost certain that there was more to the tale than Ignitus was letting on. How many more secrets lurked behind the Guardian's fiery eyes?

Resentment crawled through Spyro's veins. His blood began to boil. He was furious, and uncharacteristically so. Ignitus glared defiantly back at him, as if daring him to say something. Cynder and the rest of the Guardians looked uncomfortable. Even Sparx looked slightly fearful.

"Come on, pal," Sparx said softly. "You heard the old fella - it's no biggie. We should just stay here. Where it's safe. And there are no evil creatures trying to kill us."

Spyro ignored him.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

He opened his mouth as if to scream - and released a red-hot stream of fire.

X

Unfortunately for Sparx, the plan to sit back and do nothing was not particularly working in his favour. Spyro's breath powers were slowly coming back, with the return of his fire breath explaining the strange surge of anger he had felt following Ignitus' confession; but although this partially excused his behaviour, and Spyro had made sure to apologise regardless, he still nevertheless felt continuously wary and distrustful of the elder.

The other factor that pushed them towards taking action was the fact that the visions of impending doom Ignitus had witnessed began to occur thick and fast. The first of which happened one afternoon when Spyro was, of course, in the Library; and the young dragon was particularly annoyed at the timing because he'd just discovered a very interesting book that he wanted to read. It was interesting because the cover consisted completely of black leather, with no title or author presented. Spyro was just about to flick through the yellowing pages of this book when he was interrupted by the arrival of Sparx looking incredibly flustered indeed.

"What is it?" Spyro asked, finding it odd that Sparx would come to the Library.

"_Thereareapesoutsidethetempleandyouneedtogetridofth em!" _

The dragonfly was practically hyperventilating.

"What?"

"Apes," Sparx panted, "outside the temple! Kick – ass – _now_!"

At once Spyro understood. He hid the black book under the cushion in which he'd been sitting upon – he felt somehow reluctant to let Sparx see it, even though he knew his adoptive brother detested reading – and with a horrified feeling in his stomach, he rushed out of the room.

He followed Sparx until he could hear the unmistakable cries of battle sounding from just outside the Dragon Temple. He ran through the door and, sure enough, Cynder and the Guardians were engaged in a skirmish with a horde of apes. Cyril was combatting the apes in smooth, swift movements, occasionally freezing a few with his ice breath before striking and shattering them into thousands of pieces. Volteer was even speedier, often spending a mere few seconds fighting one ape before moving on to the next. It was Terrador, however, that seemed to be inflicting the most damage; with his face contorted in a grimace of determination, he bowled over at least half a dozen apes with one sweep of his mace-like tail, and then promptly turned to fire a devastating blast of earth at those unlucky enough to be standing behind him.

But despite the Guardians' impressive efforts, Spyro could see that their fighting was tarnished by the burden of old age, and they were quickly tiring. Only Cynder seemed to carry on with boundless energy, pummelling the apes with attacks that made Spyro glad she was on their side.

Ignitus breathed a stream of flame that sent several apes screeching away; he turned around when he heard Spyro approach. "Spyro, good," he said, sounding strong-minded but weary. "We need your help. These apes are coming by the dozens. We cannot let them penetrate the Temple."

Spyro nodded and jumped into the throng. He was immediately relieved that his breath powers had returned in time, knowing full well that the battle would have been much more difficult without them.

He froze a bunch of apes that were charging towards him, only to be pounced on by several that were behind him. He tossed one away with his horns in a move he'd seen Ignitus perform many times, and then finished the others with a blast of his earth breath. The apes he had frozen then burst free of their icy shells; taking advantage of their wet physiques, he swiftly electrocuted them with his lightning breath. He bit and swiped and charged and head butted, alternating his elements with an ease that came naturally only in the heat of the battle. He silently hoped that Cynder was watching – partly to be impressed by his extraordinary control of the elements and partly to be aware that she wasn't the only remarkable fighter in the realms. He glanced over at her to check – and to his horror, he found her lying in a dazed heap on the ground.

A mix of fear and fury surged through him. He was enraged when he found one ape kicking her limp body repeatedly and, with speed that rivalled that of Volteer, he leapt across the battlefield and sunk his teeth into the ape's shoulder.

_That'll teach you to kick a dragon when she's down! _he thought angrily, hurling him away. Cynder staggered to her paws, muttering what might have been a 'thank-you.' She tried to move back to the battle but Spyro blocked her path.

"You could have been killed," Spyro said simply. "And you're hurt. You should go back to the Temple."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Cynder shot back with an unexpected haughtiness. "I've taken down five Dragon Guardians in the past so I think I can manage a few apes, thanks!"

And without waiting for a response, she barged past Spyro and leapt back into the fray.

Spyro was so stunned that he stood there, dumbfounded, until an ape thumped him painfully in the back of his head with a club. Through bleary eyes, he saw perhaps six or seven apes take their chance to pounce on him. But, far from being warmed by their writhing, hairy bodies, Spyro instead felt stone cold. _Is this what death feels like? _he briefly wondered, welcoming the chill that was now creeping through his veins and freezing his blood. But it couldn't be death – for Spyro was now pumping with uncontainable energy. He allowed one small, hitched breath to escape his lips. It formed a cloud of cold white smoke. Then he released his first fury attack in nearly a month.

The effect was immediate. The pouncing apes were instantly thrown off him, and those in his surroundings were stabbed with enormous flying icicles. Those that survived were either frozen in the blast or so slowed by the cold that they were easy for the Guardians to finish off.

Spyro stood panting at the centre of it all, his energy thoroughly spent. Rather pathetically, he hoped that Cynder was impressed. The Guardians certainly were; Cyril in particular, who kept on exclaiming, "Did you see that? He unleashed a fury of _my _element first!"

Sparx, however, was not so amused. "Could you at least have watched where you were aiming?" he said irritably, wiping snow from his arms. "I didn't hear anything on the weather this morning about a blizzard, dude."

"I'm sorry," Spyro said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps I should have refrained from using my fury attack, seeing as you were being _so _helpful when fighting the apes and all."

"You said it," Sparx winked. "You should have given me another second or two – I would have kicked those chimps' asses before you could say 'Cynder!'"

"That's good to hear," Cynder said drily. "Here's your chance."

To Spyro's utter displeasure, he could hear the cries of another swarm of apes growing steadily closer. He sagged to the ground. There was no way he had the energy to fight more of the Dark Master's forces after his fury attack.

Cynder and the Dragon Guardians resumed fighting stances. Seconds later about a dozen appeared, led by an armoured ape that was significantly bigger and uglier than the rest. But his eyes widened as soon as he took sight of his defeated comrades around him and, letting out a terrified yelp, he turned around and led his horde scurrying away.

Terrador immediately flew after them, bellowing, "Oh no you don't!"

Spyro and the rest of the Guardians couldn't help but chuckle softly at Terrador's warrior spirit. He was neither fast nor a strong flyer, and it was amusing to watch him chase after the apes knowing he wouldn't catch them for a good while yet. After the green dragon had all but disappeared from view, Ignitus wearily suggested that they go inside before trudging back into the Temple.

X

It was beginning to grow dark by the time Terrador finally returned. The dying circle of the sun was slowly sinking behind the mountains that surrounded the Dragon Temple and the Swamp beyond, casting long large shadows on the sandstone floor. Spyro dozed in the last rays of light, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his scales, whilst Sparx flitted lazily beside him. There was a strange, ambiguous atmosphere about the Temple: an air of triumph at their latest victory mingled with the dreadful apprehension that this attack would certainly be the first of many. Spyro himself felt rather contented, still in the happy bubble that formed when Cynder complimented him on his combat skills.

"You fought courageously today," she said softly as they walked inside, their quarrel seemingly forgotten. "I wish I could control so many breaths. Your ice fury was amazing."

"Thanks," Spyro said, and then felt somewhat pleased with himself for not behaving like an idiot in front of her. _For once, _hissed Sparx's sardonic voice in his mind.

As soon as Terrador returned, however, the atmosphere in the Temple changed drastically. It was evident, from his ragged breathing and his blood-stained body, that something was terribly wrong.

"Those apes weren't running away in fear," he rasped once the Guardians had formed a disconcerted circle around him. "They were deliberately leading me into a trap. I was ambushed – in the Swamp, near the end of the Silver River."

The Guardians gasped in horror. Terrador hesitated, casting an uncertain glance in Sparx's direction, before deciding to speak again.

"And – and there's something else," the Earth Guardian continued, not meeting Sparx's eye. "They got caught in the conflict, tried to protect me… Flash and Nina, the dragonflies – they're dead."

**In case anyone's forgotten, Flash and Nina are the two dragonflies that raised Spyro at the start of ANB, and are Sparx's parents. And they're dead. Hee-hee, I'm so evil!**

**We'll find out more about this in the next chapter. See you then!**


End file.
